


Guess What, I Like That

by ellipsometry



Series: ✧SASO 2017✧ [14]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-07 00:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11611929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellipsometry/pseuds/ellipsometry
Summary: Not that there’s any use in ever arguing with Oikawa, even if he’s in the wrong.  That much Ushijima discovers quickly; he discovers just as quickly that he likes to do it anyway, just to see the crease in Oikawa’s brow, the curl of his lip, the frantic wording of his double, triple, quadruple texts when Ushijima doesn’t message him back.  It’s been so long that Oikawa has made a game out of teasing Ushijima that he hasn’t quite realized the street goes both ways.Ushijima discovers that he likes teasing Oikawa almost as much as Oikawa likes teasing him.





	Guess What, I Like That

**Author's Note:**

> [written for SASO bonus round 4!](https://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/23665.html?thread=14615665#cmt14615665)

For so long, Oikawa is quiet around him. He avoids Ushijima without a second thought, like he’s born for it; their interactions stay limited to terse greetings before matches, or whatever venom Oikawa decided to spit during the coin toss. Otherwise, Oikawa tends to just walks past Ushijima, stone-faced and impassive save for the characteristic scrunch of his nose. Ushijima is loath to admit just how much he goads Oikawa, finding any excuse to start a conversation, even an unpleasant one. It’s a selfish sensation, but Ushijima pushes down that guilty feeling, collecting bits of interactions here and there, holding them close to his chest. Every scrap of conversation is a hard-won treasure.

That time in Ushijima’s life feels like a bad dream now, as Oikawa traces his fingers down Ushijima’s bare chest, mouth running a mile a minute.

“I told him I needed to reschedule the conference call and he gave me so much grief, can you imagine? Meanwhile, I know this guy has absolutely nothing going on in his life - does he not know I have access to his calendar?” 

Oikawa has been complaining about this particular client for at least twenty minutes now. Nothing will dissuade him, not even Ushijima pinning him against the wall, pressing their lips together for a heady kiss, or Ushijima leading Oikawa to the bed with a tell-tale look in his eye, or Ushijima stripping off their shirts and unbuckling his pants.

His intentions are pretty clear. Oikawa is still ranting about work.

“Tooru,” Ushijima rumbles, grabbing Oikawa’s hand, “I am sure your work can wait until tomorrow.”

These are the words Oikawa has been waiting for, surely, because his face lights up with wicket delight, “Aw, Ushiwaka doesn’t like it when I talk about other guys!” he says, pressing a patronizing kiss to Ushijima’s forehead, then moving down whisper against his lips, “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“I am not _jealous_ ,” Ushijima says, well aware that he’s just adding more fuel to Oikawa’s fire.

“Sure, sure,” Oikawa laughs, kissing down along Ushijima’s jaw, and Ushijma can feel his smile against his adam’s apple, “I guess I could talk about anything and you wouldn’t care. It would probably still get you off, right?”

Ushijima makes a noise of protest in the back of his throat, “That is not the issue here.” (He makes no attempt at actually disputing Oikawa’s claim because, well.)

Not that there’s any use in ever arguing with Oikawa, even if he’s in the wrong. That much Ushijima discovers quickly; he discovers just as quickly that he likes to do it anyway, just to see the crease in Oikawa’s brow, the curl of his lip, the frantic wording of his double, triple, quadruple texts when Ushijima doesn’t message him back. It’s been so long that Oikawa has made a game out of teasing Ushijima that he hasn’t quite realized the street goes both ways.

When they discover they’ll be playing on the same university team – because of course fate saw fit to give Ushijima such a bittersweet gift – their relationship oscillates between tension and taunting. Playful one minute, deadly serious the next, like scratching an itch only to discover you’ve accidentally reopened a scab.

And when Ushijima and Oikawa start dating, their teammates remark that their public dynamic seems fairly unchanged. So much so unchanged, that Ushijima himself starts to wonder if they had been in love the whole time.

“What’re you thinking about?” Oikawa asks, his voice a hot whisper into the shell of Ushijima’s ear.

“You,” Ushijima replies, honest as always.

“I’d be flattered, but I think it’s hard _not_ to think about someone when they’re sitting literally in your lap,” Oikawa muses. He’s swung a leg over Ushijima’s torso, and now sits firmly on top of Ushijima’s thighs. It might as well be a throne, from the satisfied look on his face.

Ushijima runs his hands up Oikawa’s sides, “Maybe. But I am usually thinking about you, regardless.”

“You love me that much, huh?”

“Yes,” Ushijima replies instantly, grabbing Oikawa’s hand and bringing it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the center of Oikawa’s palm, “I do.”

“Silly Wakatoshi,” Oikawa mumbles, voice wobbly, “You’re supposed to be jealous right now. This is jealous sex we’re about to have. Get it right for once.”

Ushijima laughs under his breath, “Forgive me?”

Oikawa has the wherewithal to sigh, put-on, before finally leaning down to surrender himself to the warmth of Ushijima’s arms.

“Just this once,” he says, “Since I love you.”


End file.
